I had a whirlwind weekend. It started Friday with Bombay Sapphire Gin (a fifth), two limes, and a bottle of tonic. I remember little or nothing. According to reports, I danced with a Chucky doll, broke a glass, poured a drink over my head intentionally, hit on a gay guy, and fell asleep on peanut brittle I was attempting to eat. I crushed it. It was tracked all over the house. (I am straight by the way, there's a definite perception gap somewhere.)

Saturday I was far more respectable. I didn't even start drinking until 3am. I even got a chance to apologize to mostly everyone present the night before, although I'd recieved good reviews and nobody was actually upset. There were drugs consumed, and I did drink late/early, but I did nothing extremely embarrassing. There was one guy I consider a friend who was pressuring girls and halfway molesting them, and he heard me talk about what a creep he was and confronted me. So I told him straight up. He was mad. I felt bad for making somebody feel like shit, but everybody else approved. I still am not comfortable with the whole thing. I got a chance to speak with him Sunday and clear the air somewhat.

I also got a change to discuss fjords, lutefisk, Norse mythology, and Scandanavian culture in general, particularly Norwegian, with Travis. I got to discuss a hospital residency and infectous diseases with Dr. Jenny. Her boyfriend Polish Tom, a longtime friend of mine, had a good birthday. The two of us did an early coke run before people arrived and made it from almost downtown to Rosemont in 12 minutes. More cool people arrived in the wee hours to help us party and pimp a nightclub. (Hello Jessica!)

Sunday I slept through the football games. I ate lots of celery.

I'll get back to commentary soon, instead of this mundane diary crap I've been shitting out in the past week.